My father was a mechanic for over 40 years. I learned later he also operated a nuclear reactor, worked in a lab for Texaco, and performed fleet testing for Shell. So as you'd imagine, I was raised holding the flashlight, building model cars, and racing anything with wheels. My parents when through a nasty divorce when I was just 8. Even though he was an incredibly intelligent man, he didn't have a college degree and never made much money. He accepted a position halfway across the country living in a studio apartment so he could afford to continue supporting us. Though we did not get to spend time together, we spoke on the phone as much as possible. On the holidays that he couldn't be with me, he would dress up as Santa or the Easter Bunny and visit kids in local hospitals. We found the pictures after he passed. He also started a model car club at a Houston, TX elementary school for kids who didn't have a safe place to go after school. He was always a source of inspiration and encouragement. Despite having a heart of gold, he knew how to have fun. One of his greatest wishes was for me to have a bitchin' ride restored by him. Over the years he acquired a few projects, fixed them, and sold them if they weren't just perfect. A Satellite? Too boaty. A candy red Firebird? He drove it from Houston, TX to Milford, DE to take me to my middle school dance but could never quite get the t-top to stop leaking. What next? A '68 Dodge Coronet. Meticulously restored and painted B5 blue with a white hat and white leather interior. Unfortunately they weren't masters at mixing paint and the trunk started to crack in the hot Texas sun. It was the last project he would finish. He sold it to a car club buddy and picked up my last gift - a '69 Dodge Dart GT Convertible. He stripped it down with the intention to fix it up and have it be my first car. Shortly after, he passed of a heart attack at 52. I was 18. Since then, I have dragged this mangled shell of a car around with me from state to state, apartment to apartment, storage units, friends yards, I've probably spent more in storage in the last 15 years than the car is worth completed. I've always had a vision for it. Just never the time, money, or someone to hold the flashlight for.